Scarred
by FreyaIsADinosaur
Summary: Connor's not coping. His life is slowly falling apart. But how long can he try and keep it together? *TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF-HARM*
1. Chapter 1

Connor opened his eyes, blinked and realized he was awake. Sighing discontentedly, he slowly sat up, yawning and stretching his arms. He could vaguely hear the sound of pots and pans clanking downstairs - _Mum must be up_, he thought. _Shit_. He didn't have the energy to deal with a confrontation about why he didn't come home until 1 this morning, or why he was 3 pieces of coursework behind in English. There were enough thoughts swirling around his head already.

After getting dressed into his usual black jeans and slightly-too-big school jumper, he made his way down the creaking stairs as quietly as possible, hoping for a quick getaway to school. Just as he reached the bottom step and turned to head out of the front door, he heard a slightly slurred voice behind him.  
"Connor? You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you darling?" _Oh, fuck_, he realized.  
"Mum, have - have you been drinking again?" he asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer but not wanting to hear it out loud.  
"Oh no, sweetheart, no! Well, maybe a little bit, but just to put me in this wonderful mood!" She swung her arms round and span in a circle, beaming at him. "Oh, you look sad! Is something wrong?" she said, reaching out her arms towards him. Connor pushed her away, inwardly devastated that she had broken her clean streak.  
"I'm fine, Mum. Just fine. What do you think?! You haven't touched alcohol in over six months and you expect me to just get on with my life with you in this state? For God's sake!"  
Christine's face darkened, her expression changing dramatically.  
"How DARE you speak to me like that! I am your mother and I will NOT tolerate it!"  
"But Mum, what the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, you're a mess!" He was cut off from saying anything else by a sharp slap stinging his cheek.  
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" his mother yelled at him, visibly shaking now. Connor turned and walked away so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes, but before he left the house he reached into his school bag to check if he had his 2 most important items - a small pocket knife, and a lighter.

Just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

((AN: Thank you to Guest and Ebony for your lovely reviews! I was worried it would be too similar to my other story, and if it is I apologise - I do intend to take them both in different directions. Anyway, here's Chapter 2!))

"Connor!" Imogen yelled, a good 20 metres or so behind the dark haired boy. "Connor, wait a second!" Registering his name was being called, he stopped and briefly turned around to see Imogen walking towards him. And although he loved her with every piece of his heart, seeing her face every single day was a constant reminder of the fire - how he had failed her; failed everyone.

Imogen had finally caught up with him, starting a one-sided meaningless conversation about some Science coursework or something. Connor wasn't taking any of it in - his mind was on other things, like how he'd walked out on his mum who could very well be drinking even more as he walked along the road outside school.  
"Connor? Are you listening to anything I'm saying?" Imogen half laughed. "Hey, is everything okay? You seem kinda distant", she observed, her eyes showing a hint of concern.  
"No, I'm fine, just a bit distracted, sorry - what were you saying?" He felt guilty for not paying attention to his girlfriend, but at the same time couldn't stop thinking about everything else. She giggled and repeated herself, going off into a long tale about something Dynasty had told her about Kevin - but he still wasn't paying any attention. By this time they had reached the school doors, and the couple had to part for their first lesson. After a brief goodbye, Connor wandered off in the vague direction of Maths with Mr Chalk, unable to concentrate on anything due to the stress and guilt of knowing his mum wasn't going to turn up to work this morning, and she was in charge of running the school now. He was so spaced out he didn't even see Mrs Diamond walking briskly towards him, and they collided head-on.  
"Connor! Watch where you're going next time!" The teacher shook her head and carried on down the corridor. Having been snapped out of his dissociative state, Connor continued along the hallway, entered the classroom and took a seat at the back, deliberately next to no-one else. He didn't have the mental capacity to deal with other people - he was only just dealing with his own emotions.

The first half of the lesson passed with no incidents, and he tried to focus on his work, with little success. Five minutes before the lesson was due to end, there was a knock on the door and Mrs Diamond came in.  
"Please could I borrow Connor for a moment?" she asked, and when her request was granted she beckoned Connor outside the door. He was fully aware of what was coming.  
"Connor, um, your mum didn't turn up for work this morning. Do you know why?" She looked at him, head slightly cocked to one side.  
"Erm, she wasn't feeling very well, migraine or something, I don't know exactly", he mumbled, knowing that if he revealed the truth, his mum would lose her job and then what?  
"Are you sure? It's just we haven't had a message from her", she questioned. By this point Connor was getting worked up and feeling like he could throw up or pass out at any second.  
"I don't know, okay?! Stop asking so many questions!", he half shouted.  
"Connor, there's no need for that kind of attitu-" Before she could finish her sentence, he had set off down the corridor in the vague direction of the boys' changing rooms.

He arrived at the changing rooms and pushed the door shut behind him, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. This had happened before, and so he dealt with it in the only way he knew how - by hurting himself. Pushing open the store cupboard door, he switched the light on and placed a chair against the door, not wanting anyone to come in. He took off his jumper and rolled up his shirt sleeve all the way to the top of his shoulder, looking at the faint red and white marks that remained from previous times, then bent down and fished in his bag for the lighter he had put in earlier. _Wrists are too obvious_, he had thought the first time. _Shoulders are much better_.  
He knew how intense the pain was going to be. He knew that when it was all over, and the burns started to heal, that it would be agony, and that he would regret it. But at that moment in time, he didn't care. Pushing down the switch on the small red item, he inhaled, closed his eyes and pressed it against the skin of his upper arm. The white-hot pain came almost immediately, and once he removed the lighter from his skin he could breathe out again. The pain served as a distraction from all the thoughts which he couldn't control - for a few seconds, everything was okay. Just as he positioned the flame over his shoulder again, he heard a voice in the changing rooms.  
"Connor? I know you're in there. Connor, open the door." Mrs Diamond, oh for fuck's sake. Keeping as quiet as he could, he placed the lighter in his trouser pocket. As much as he needed the release, he couldn't risk making any noise.  
"Hang on a second", he replied, trying to keep his voice even.

"What were you doing in there?", she asked, bemused. Connor, who was now fully dressed and hoping the pain in his shoulder wasn't showing, had already thought it through.  
"Well, it's sort of embarassing, erm, I was crying because my uncle's ill, and I didn't want anyone to see me". Connor half-smiled at the teacher. He knew he was a good liar, and hoped this would convince her.  
"Well, I'm sorry to hear about your uncle. If you need someone to talk to, you know where I am"._ Phew_, Connor thought. _That was close_. "Oh, and your mum left a message at the school office saying she's ill. I'm sorry I doubted you", Mrs Diamond smiled at him. _She must be well enough to leave a fake sick note on the answerphone, then. Thank God._  
Connor was relieved he had covered for both himself and his mother, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. Christine was sick, and deep down he knew that he might end up sick, too, if he kept this hidden.

But for now, at least, he was willing to take that risk.


End file.
